That bag of Jello
by 02AngelBaby75
Summary: Herschel K. Snowsell has a daughter who keeps falling asleep at the most innapropriate times, and there's nothing they or Icilio can do to fix her.


The warm night air had a weight to it as it hung over the City of Lights.

Outside, three shadowy figures walked along the sidewalk. The time was well past midnight . One was chewing on a cigar and the smoke made the Italian gentleman want to cough, but the little girl felt fine as she was completely used to it.

The two men were talking business. "Don't you know what duplicates are?" asked the man with the cigar.

"Sure," said the Italian, shrugging his shoulders. "There's five kids up in Canada."

"Well, I haven't been to Canada in five years."

This gentleman's name was Herschel K. Snowsell. He always carried a cigar with him, everywhere he went. He was smart in the worst of ways and was easily able to compliment you and insult you at the same time. Herschel was whimsically cunning and obnoxious, with a black greasepaint moustache and brows thickly painted on his upper lip and both eyebrows. He had glasses and dark brown hair. Some may call it, 'fluffy.'

Herschel K. Snowsell's companion, and newly discovered business partner, was Icilio. He always carried an elaborate scheme with him, everywhere he went. He had a case of untreated labyrinthitis, so he had trouble hearing people and at times became too dizzy to stand up by himself. Icilio was affable and humorously annoying. Barely anyone has seen his thick hair because it's frequently under a funny-looking hat. Love him like a brother or hate him like the bug on the windshield of your life.

A small hand tugged at the bottom of Herschel's jacket.

The hand belonged to an eight-year-old girl named Padme. She always carried an old, tattered blue blanket with her, everywhere she went. She was quiet and pathetically shy, and had an, 'issue,' (as her father called it) where she never slept at night but fell asleep randomly throughout the day. She was unbelievably cute and inquisitive, with very light brown hair messily put up in a ponytail. Her green eyes were in a perpetual state of shock. Padme constantly left you wondering just what it was she was seeing that you didn't which was so fascinating.

Again, it was happening. Padme clutched at her father's hand and opened her mouth, but before any words could come out, she fainted dead away into his awaiting arms.

Herschel sighed. He hoisted her into the air and held her sideways, her head naturally resting against his chest. He wrapped the girl up in her beloved blanket, making a, 'Padme Taco,' as she liked to call it. He glanced at Icilio, who was scratching his head in confusion, and then glanced back down at his daughter. He immediately sat down on the curb, the girl in his lap. Soon Icilio was sitting uncomfortably beside him on the cold ground.

"Now we just have to put this bag of jello here until she comes to..." he mumbled more to himself than his companion, brushing some hair out of Padme's face and behind her ear. She didn't even flinch.

Her, 'issue,' was getting worse and worse by the day. Herschel was forever having to stop whatever he was doing to hold her up and snuggle her for between five minutes to two hours until she was awake enough to move around again. It was becoming increasingly difficult and Herschel felt guilty going to bed at night knowing his little girl was wide awake in the other room. Why could HE sleep when he wanted to but SHE couldn't?

It happened when they both least expected it. It had happened when Padme was brushing her teeth, doing her homework, eating, driving with Herschel at the wheel, drinking milk, walking, reading a book, listening to the baseball game on the radio, playing her and her father's guitar, or doing the dishes.

Recently, Herschel was realizing she was beginning to have a couple seconds of notice before she actually fell asleep. Just a couple, but it made a difference. At least he had time to catch her, whereas before she landed either flat on her face or flat on her back, or into whatever she was eating.

Icilio cocked his head to the side. "Whatsa matter for her?"

Herschel said nothing and bounced Padme up and down, desperately wishing she would awaken. Although Herschel would never admit it since it was silly, but sometimes he worried she would sleep for days at once and he wouldn't be able to leave her.

Her breathing was steady and even, and he could tell she was in for a long session. Herschel cradled her as if she was two years old again, when her mother was still alive.

Slightly frustrated that his life centered around Padme's episodes, he said to Icilio, "Wouldn't it be simpler if I just had her stuffed?"

Icilio firmly shook his head no. He frowned. "She's-a no olive."

A warm July breeze blew past them. Herschel, a lawyer, had been hired by Icilio to represent him in a case involving some lemonade, a fat cop, a dog, and some peanuts. The details escaped Herschel's mind at the moment. When Icilio was explaining the situation he was busy doing one of the following: eating, smoking, or drinking. Given that the details were so hazy he was probably doing the latter. More likely, though, all three.

"Well, olives are olives, aren't they? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west, and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce, they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does. Now, uh..." Herschel nodded in Icilio's direction. "Now you tell me what you know."

The sky was as dark as charcoal. Icilio seemed transfixed with it. His head was tilted all the way back as he stared, fascinated. There were no stars. Herschel always told Padme that was because there just as many stars as there were lights, so your eyes got confused and couldn't tell the difference and you would get so dizzy it all basically turned black.

Icilio at long last tore his gaze away from the sky and gave Herschel his full attention. "Well, let-a me see. I know nothing, all I know is that-a mustard's-a no good without-a roast beef."

"Yes, yes, that's true," Herschel agreed. "Eh?" He nudged the girl, who didn't budge.

"Yeah..."

Herschel squeezed Padme, hugging her as hard as possible without breaking her ribs. He wanted so much more for her than she had. He wanted her to get better.


End file.
